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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22781197">Snoke Dies at the End</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunt_Haunt_Haunt/pseuds/Haunt_Haunt_Haunt'>Haunt_Haunt_Haunt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU - Waffle House, AU-Real World, Ethical Growing of Mushrooms, I HAVE NOT SEEN SKYWALKER, I spoilered myself so that you don't have to, Knights of Ren - Freeform, LITERALLY, Las Vegas, Last chapter is a POV shift, Millenial Condition, Other, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Psilocybe Mexicana, Quentin Tarentino Violence, Rare Characters, Rare Pairings, SKYWALKER SPOILERS, The Epilogue Only though, This is my best guess TM, This ship is a canoe, Written as journal entries, antifa, illegal things, weird ships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:07:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22781197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunt_Haunt_Haunt/pseuds/Haunt_Haunt_Haunt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey is working at a Waffle House when she meets a cute boy on the side of the road and gets dragged into a whole new lifestyle.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey/Cardo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 2/7/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oh boy. I'm so sorry.</p><p>Let me start by saying that I haven't seen Rise of Skywalker, but I do have Wookiepedia, and dear god I couldn't have written the Knights of Ren better myself. I took several liberties, and that should be obvious.</p><p>I don't care what canon says. Take your neckbeard and ponytail and katana and go read something else if you don't like it.</p><p>I own none of the copyrighted shit in this work.</p><p>This was a fic-trade piece that was supposed to be smut. Unfortunately, the comissioner wasn't happy because it was supposed to be light and happy and this is definitely not that toward the end. If you don't want it to get dark and heavy, don't read the Epilogue.</p><p>Thanks to YogSoThots for the editing! He also made me some margin scribbles as he was reading like it was Rey's diary. I'll upload them later. I can't figure out Ao3's picture thingy.</p><p>This was meant to be in the style of the edgy 90's dark comedies.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>New year, same me, new book. Just now getting around to this. I’m always afraid of wasting the stationary and books and shit by writing on them.</p><p>Well, journal, I’m here to tell you that something exciting finally happened. I left work the other day, walking home like I normally do. It was late, cause it was midnight, and I had just gotten chewed out by Mr. Snoke about reporting my tips correctly. It was the same shit on a different day. I left the Awful Waffle, was headed home, met a cat that ran from me, and got leered at more than once. It was a typical night. Then I saw HIM.</p><p>I didn’t think much about him at first. He was minding his own business on the street corner, and I was just trying to get home without getting fucking catcalled or followed again, and as I passed him, he spoke to me.</p><p>“Hey, you got a light?”</p><p>Of course I did. It was almost reflex at that point. I reached into my apron pocket, pulled out my lighter, and then I looked at him. I don’t know what I was expecting. He was white, and wearing a black denim vest with sleeves and a hood. It had several buttons, notably a Panic! button and a few gay pride ones, there was a cat head that reminded me of Luna from Sailor Moon on the left shoulder blade, a triple goddess moon on the other shoulder blade, and there was some kind of interesting symbol on the back of it, but I couldn’t get a good look at it. He was also wearing some band tee, and black jeans that seemed a little too strategically ripped to be natural. His hair was dark and straight, and he had a few ear piercings and snakebites, complete with a piercing of his left eyebrow (AKA The hottest piercing known to man.) It wasn’t all of that that really caught my attention though. He was cute, but there’s cute boys all the time in Vegas. But I couldn’t stay, I was a girl and I was alone, and while we were under a light, he was still a strange boy. What caught my attention was two things: his eyes and his accent.</p><p>More on his eyes in a minute, cause I want to gush, but it was the accent that really threw me at first. He had my accent. I haven’t really heard it outside of my family in a while, and we don’t get many visitors from fucking Cranston in Vegas, surprisingly lol. But he had my accent, and he was at a bus stop, which hinted that he might be local. His voice was really nice too. That’s not a thing that most people tend to pick up on, but he had a smoky baritone that could probably make me melt if he sang or something.</p><p>And now onto his eyes. I don’t really know how to explain this… but they were yellow? I know, that’s not a normal eye color, and he was probably wearing contacts, but they were yellow, almost gold. He had deep dark areas around his eyes, and for a moment, I thought he might be wearing eyeshadow or something, and he was wearing eyeliner and mascara, but his eyes were genuinely that dark. They were beautiful. It definitely caught my eye, and I guess I stared for a second too long or something. His body language shifted subtly. From what I noticed when he first spoke to me, it was like he was waiting for something, or someone. Now, it seemed like he wanted to talk? I don’t know, but he took the lighter from my hands and cupped his own around his cigarette, lighting it. He took a pull then blew out the smoke, not removing the cigarette from his mouth, then handed it back. It was such a small interaction, but something about it made me curious. I asked him if he was a local. You know, like an idiot.</p><p>“I am, but not from here,” he said. I didn’t really know what else to say, so I just nodded and walked away. He didn’t follow me or stare at me or anything. He just stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the street light, and didn’t move an inch as I rounded the corner on the last stretch to home.</p><p>I don’t know why it’s sticking in my head. It was such a small thing, and not at all meaningful. He probably forgot that I even existed, but he was all I could think about when I showered. I guess I thought he was some kind of stranger here to take me back to my home as a princess or something and tell me that my shitty life didn’t have to be anymore. That wasn’t the case. I doubt I’ll see him again, but I’ll keep my eyes open. Goodnight, journal.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2/8/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I told Lakesa what happened last night. She made fun of me as I suspected she would, but not maliciously. Mr. Snoke told me that I should focus more on my job than daydreaming about a boy, then turned back to the grill, but I ignored him. I wonder if he’s ever smiled in his life. I carried on with my job, of course. Someone stole a syrup container. I had to chase him down. He was just drunk, go figure. Nothing else exciting happened. I didn’t see Badboi anywhere. I guess that’s what I’m calling him now. That’s what Lakesa was calling him. I did look, but I didn’t stray too far from my usual path. I’m still not comfortable wandering--people might think I was a tourist. I remember what it used to be like and I’d rather not.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 2/11/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Been a few days. A few boring days. A few aggravating days. Someone dumped their coffee on me today, and instead of helping, Mr. Snoke laughed. I didn’t think it was very funny, and the man didn’t either. He had Parkinson’s. Mr. Snoke ended up comping his meal then taking it out on me later. I hate him so much. I thought about filing a complaint, but it wouldn’t do any good. Our numbers are some of the highest in the district. They attribute that to Mr. Snoke instead of the fact that we’re literally a block from the Strip. I had another person hit on me and stare at my ass for an hour. That was uncomfortable. I wonder, if he grabbed me, would Mr. Snoke even do anything, or would he just sit there and let it happen?</p><p>I’m getting angry just thinking about it. Tomorrow is my day off. I’m not so sure I feel like just finding someone for NSA, but I’ve been thinking about it and maybe I do want SA? I need a boyfriend, but that isn’t gonna happen on Tinder, and I work 5 days a week and the only people that come in are the oldies or the drunks. I could probably look for another job, but that’s proving to be fruitless too. There’s nothing around here without education or licensing I can’t afford. I’ll figure something out, I guess.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 2/12/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I SAW HIM AGAIN! Okay, I was fucking around on Tinder like I said I wouldn’t, and needed to run to the 7/11, and as I was walking down the street, it was daytime this time, I saw him again, leaning on the same street light. Did he maybe live near this stop? He was wearing the same denim vest, but this time had a tee with the spider on it from the Killjoys album of MCR. They probably weren’t the same jeans. This time, in the light, I noticed that his dark hair was actually a deep and vibrant purple. I walked past him, trying to be cool, and he spoke to me.<br/>“You live around here?”</p><p>That confirmed that not only did he remember me, but he actually wanted to talk.</p><p>“Yeah, I live on Twain. Mind if I smoke with you?”</p><p>“It’s a public street,” he said, pulling out his own cigarette. </p><p>“What about you? You live near here?”</p><p>He gestured down the road toward Sands Avenue, of all things. That led to only one place. “I got a room at the Bellagio,” He said, resting the cigarette in two fingers. I didn’t know what he was smoking, but I loved the smell. It was better than the Pall Mall that I smoke on occasion when I was stressed enough to bum one. I couldn’t justify buying anything more expensive. I don’t smoke that much. Nicotine doesn’t smell as good as grass.</p><p>So who in my age and seeming class bracket has a room at the Bellagio with a drawly New England accent? Nobody, really. Mostly rich businessmen and tourists, but he said that he was a local. </p><p>“I’m Rey,” I said, sticking out a hand. He glanced at it, but didn’t take it.</p><p>“Cardo. I don’t like being touched. It’s not you. Don’t take it personally,” he said, then his eyes flicked back out across the street.</p><p>“Sorry,” I responded. I didn’t really know what else to say. How do you strike up conversation with a stranger? So I asked a dumb question. “So, is this your favorite stop or…?”</p><p>“I’m waiting for someone. This is a central location,” he said like it was obvious, but ask a stupid question/get a stupid answer. Even worse, my cigarette was almost out. I had sucked it down because of the anxiety.</p><p>“Alright, I guess have a good day, Cardo,” I said and stomped the cigarette out. I tucked the spent butt in my pocket because I’m not a monster, of course.</p><p>“You too, Rey,” he said, but didn’t move. He just stood there. I thought that yeah, he was a little weird, but he seemed harmless, and I could whoopass-stick him into next week if he tried anything. I finished my journey to 7/11, but when I came back, he was gone. I got home and sat down to immediately write this down. I don’t care about Tinder anymore. Something about Cardo was… intoxicating? He had this weird aura or something that keeps drawing me in, and I don’t realize it until I’m already out of the situation. Maybe I’ll see him again. Part of me hopes so. The part of me that also wants him to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, which is weird since I’ve met him twice and we’ve only had a small conversation. I guess I’m just horny. I’m gonna go jerk it in the shower and see if that helps.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 2/13/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I told Lakesa about our conversation. </p><p>“Mmm, girl, that boy is trouble,” she said.</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“A punky white boy that lives in the Bellagio but is standing on the street corner out that way waiting for someone? That doesn’t seem like trouble to you?”</p><p>“Get back to work,” Mr. Snoke said from his position at the grill, and that was the end of it. The rest of the day went about like you’d expect. Boring and uneventful. I got a five dollar tip on a cup of coffee, and it’s really sad that that is the highlight of my day. I found myself hoping that Cardo was waiting by the streetlight when I went home, but he wasn’t. I had to wonder on what Lakesa said though. She was right. Something about that didn’t add up. Maybe it was drugs? He didn’t seem high or strung out when I talked to him though. I can’t think of any other reasonable explanation though. I guess if I see him again, I could press him. He seemed ok to answer my questions, even if he didn’t ask many in return.</p><p>I neglected to mention the part to her where I dreamed about him. Am I that lonely that I’m dreaming about strange boys on street corners now? The dream was of the typical X-Rated variety, but I don’t remember much of it. I do remember waking up to a noticeable damp spot on my bed and being incredibly horny, though. Same shit, different day indeed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 2/14/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Valentine’s day and I’m lonely as fuck. Lakesa called in, and Mr. Snoke seemed to have a spring in his step. He wasn’t as unbearable today. Did he have a wife? He never wears a ring. It was dead, as expected. Who brings their date to Waffle House? I spent most of it daydreaming about Cardo. He was the closest thing to a boyfriend I had, and he was a stranger. I have a really sad life. After work, I walked home. Streetlight still empty. I guess I’ll just go jerk off in the shower. That’s all the action I’m getting tonight and I don’t Tinder on work nights. Not enough time for that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 2/17/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was my day off again today, so I decided to do an experiment, and it worked. When I got up, I actually bothered to do my face. I had this Anastasia palette that I’d gotten on discount and I did this spicy halo thing with Parallel+Sphinx+Pyramid. Grabbed my ripped jeans and a band tee. It was Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors tee that I got from Hot Topic and not like an actual show, and I felt like a tool or poseur, but I guess I wanted to look cool in case I saw Cardo. (note to self this is Cool) I even wore my Date Underwear, just in case. The horribly uncomfortable black lace ones. I went form over function and regretted it most of the day, then I went and stood under the streetlight. At one point, I had to ask myself what I was doing. I didn’t know him, met him, like, twice, and now here I was waiting for him trying to look cool and impress him. It was creepy. If someone had done that to me, I’d scream and run. Was it creepy if it was a boy though? Was I a creep? Was I that lonely that I thought this strange boy was gonna fuck me for no reason? I waited a few hours, playing on my phone, and I felt a presence next to me. I looked up and Cardo was there, looking at me with those yellow eyes. I didn’t see him approach or anything. It was like he teleported.</p><p>“Did I take your spot?” I asked, my back against the streetlight.</p><p>“You waited for me,” he said, sitting on the curb and pulling out one of those cigarettes. I could see what was on his back now. It was a big patch that had been sewed on. It looked like a red sun in the middle, with four black crowns at the corners. It dominated the entire back of the vest, sharing some space with Luna and Witch Stuff, but was definitely the focal piece.</p><p>“I didn’t wait for you. I took a break here.”</p><p>“And your clothes are just a coincidence as well?” He asked, then took a drag of his cigarette. I guess it worked, just not in the way I intended. I wanted him to notice me, but I wasn’t ready for him to criticize me. I had been caught, and felt a little foolish. “So what do you want? You obviously tried to get my attention.”</p><p>“I think you’re cool and I think we’d be good friends,” I said, pocketing my phone.</p><p>“I’m not the kind of friend a nice girl like you needs,” He said.</p><p>“I don’t think you get to decide whether I’m a nice girl or not,” I said.</p><p>He took a drag of his cigarette. “Fair enough.”</p><p>I didn’t really know what to say. ‘Hey, you look like a good lay. Wanna come back to my place and fuck me senseless?’ I doubted that would go over well. </p><p>“Where are you from? Your accent is similar to mine.”</p><p>I blinked. He actually asked me a question.</p><p>“My family is from Rhode Island. We moved to Texas in 2016 after Trump announced he was running. My parents are racists and white supremacists, as you probably could have guessed. I moved here 2 years ago when I turned 18, trying to vanish,” I said, regretting regurgitating my life story on this stranger. This mildly-attractive-but-for-some-reason-was-becoming-more-so-every-day stranger. “What about you?”</p><p>He took a drag from his cigarette. “Bristol. I’m Lithuanian by heritage, but my accent is Bristolian.”</p><p>“When did you move here? No wonder you sound New English.”</p><p>“A few years ago. I wasn’t down with Brexit,” he said with a snort. “Decided to get out before the whole country exploded, but it’s not much better here.” He stood. “Nice talking to you, Rey. You’re a nice girl. I think I can say that in good faith now.” He put out his cigarette on the bottom of his black high top converse, then put the butt in his pocket. Nice. Cute and environmentally conscious.</p><p>“Aren’t you waiting for someone?” I asked, definitely entitled to that information.</p><p>“I was, but they’re not here. I’m going home,” he said, taking a few steps down the street and pressing the crosswalk button.</p><p>“Do you maybe want some company?” I blurted out before I really thought about it, and I was surprised by his answer.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>My brain took a minute to process, and he started across the street before I registered what he said, and hurried behind him. He pulled a phone from his pocket and tapped a few keys, and I was surprised. Twisted by Missio came on. He shoved his hands in his pocket, walking calmly down the street, and I wondered if I should say something to him or if he wanted to walk in silence. He turned down Paradise Road toward Flamingo, then spoke again. “So why are you waiting for me? You never did answer.”</p><p>I couldn’t tell him the truth, could I? “I guess this is the most human interaction that I’ve had in a long time. Tinder dates are fine, but they leave a lot to be desired in the personality department.”</p><p>“That’s because it’s Tinder. The goal is to get laid. People are a little different when they don’t have that end goal in mind.”</p><p>“What’s the end goal you have in mind?” I put a hand over my mouth. I was getting anxious again, and my brain wasn’t make gud prety wordz.</p><p>“To get to my hotel room, let myself in, smoke a cigarette, then sleep. You asked to follow me, remember?” He said. Of course I remembered, but I guess I was expecting something a little less underwhelming?</p><p>“How was your Valentine’s Day?” I asked, trying to change the subject to something less personal and failing miserably.</p><p>“Another day. I went to work, came home, smoked a cigarette, then slept.”</p><p>“Surely you do more than that,” I said, but that answered a question I had. He was single.</p><p>“Not really. I’m very boring. I don’t know why you’ve taken an interest in me.”</p><p>“You’re a punky white boy with a room at the Bellagio, but you stand on a street corner here just to smoke. Even you have to admit that that’s kind of weird and not boring, and the way you dress tells me that you have to be at least kind of exciting.”</p><p>He shrugged. “I’m doing my job. I don’t follow you wherever you work with an insistence on talking.”</p><p>“You could,” I said, then regretted it. What was wrong with me, journal? Why was I blurting out my secret thoughts? This is what I was talking about--what reasonable person does this?? Why am I like this? I needed to talk to people and not just give them the small talk that is expected of a Waffle House server.</p><p>“Where do you work?”</p><p>I didn’t want to answer that, but I guess I opened the door and he just walked through it. “I work at the Waffle House.”</p><p>I watched a weird look cross his face, but then it went back to the normal of looking bored. “I guess I’ll have to come bother you sometime,” he said.</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>“Well, what?”</p><p>“What do you do?” </p><p>“I’m a chemist.”</p><p>That told me a lot of things. A chemist that waited for people on a street corner? “So you’re a drug dealer.”</p><p>“No. I’m a chemist. If I was a drug dealer, I probably would have offered you drugs by now, wouldn’t I?” he asked.</p><p>“So what kind of chemistry do you do?”</p><p>“I’m not comfortable answering that question.”</p><p>“You must make good money to live on the Strip.”</p><p>“I do okay. Better than as a server at the Waffle House.”</p><p>“Well, I’m sorry I don’t have the skills to be a chemist.”</p><p>He looked like he was about to say something. “You need a new job?” He asked.</p><p>“That sounds like a loaded question from someone that won’t tell me what their job is.”</p><p>“You’re right. Forget I said anything,” he said, and we walked into the Bellagio. He turned. “And this is where we part ways. It was nice talking to you, Rey,” he said, and winked. He had me at the wink. I didn’t even register that I was actually into him until then, and it took me by surprise. Honestly who even winks in this day and age, it was like something Clark Gable would do. Ugh, I disgust even me.</p><p>“Can I get your phone number or something?” I asked, as bold as I felt like being for one day. He seemed to think about it.</p><p>“No. You know where I take my breaks. You’ll see me again,” he said, and melted into the crowd.</p><p>I walked home after that feeling only slightly dejected, I guess. I have never actually been turned down on a phone number before. The way he said it though, he was planning to see me again. Why would he refuse my number if I was pleasant company? I’ve never been driven this insane by a boy before. I definitely want to know more about him. Anyway, these underpants need to come off, and I guess since I didn’t get laid, I’ll go masturbate about him in the shower or something else that foolish girls with crushes do. I’m disgusted with myself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 2/20/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He came into my workplace tonight, and he brought a friend. His friend was as cute as he was, but in a different way. This guy was wearing a polo and jeans, and was blonde/white/ 7/10. Could have been an 8 if I was really interested. He was really polite.</p><p>Cardo walked in with his friend. I didn’t see them at first. I was busy doing the dishes. Lakesa greeted them, and he specifically asked to sit in my section, and told her his name. She got that look on her face, I’m sure, but seated them anyway and came by me.</p><p>“Girl, he’s cute, and he has a cute friend,” she said. I looked up and about dropped my plates. I hadn’t expected him to actually bother me at work. “Look, you can have the friend,” I said quietly.</p><p>“Uh-uh. I like looking at white boys, but I don’t touch white boys. Especially when they are That Basic.”</p><p> I disappeared into the bathroom and tried to make myself look nice, and I felt like a total dumbass, then came back out. There’s only so much you can do with sweat and no foundation and my stupid work ponytail.</p><p>“Cardo! Cardo’s friend!” I said as cheerily as I could. At least I didn’t have to put on my Poppy voice for these two. I swear it’s babytalk for Boomers.</p><p>“Rey. This is my friend and co-worker, Albrekh (sp?). He’s another chemist,” Cardo said, but the two were like night and day. Cardo was definitely punk trash, and this other guy looked like a nice upstanding white boy that I’d have found anywhere in Luckenbach. I didn’t really know what to think.</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Rey,” He said, but didn’t extend his hand. Was that a thing with them? He smelled like some kind of citrus aftershave where Cardo smelled like amber musk and those damn cigarettes. They really were polar opposites. Cardo leaned in the booth and crossed a leg over his knee, while Albrekh took his napkin and placed it in his lap.</p><p>I took their orders. I guess I expected them to eat and leave like everyone else, but that is Not what happened. Albrekh got some kind of white toast horseshit, but Cardo ordered twelve (12)  orders of hashbrowns, fully loaded but sans gravy, and a praline waffle. Boy could put it away, I guess. Mr. Snoke wasn’t amused. He had to cook twelve orders of hashbrowns, which put the grill out of commission for everyone else. Haha fuck him.</p><p>“So, this is where you work?” Cardo asked.</p><p>“Yeah. I’m here almost every night. You could come by more often. I’d like the company,” I said.</p><p>“Unfortunately, we have a big order coming in soon, and Cardo and I are gonna be real busy. This is the lull before the storm,” Albrekh said as I served him his coffee. Cardo drank his black, I noticed, tres edgy, but Albrekh put so much sugar and creamer in his it was as white as he was. Cardo leaned forward in a bit of a whisper. “That guy, your boss, is his name Snoke?” He asked quietly.</p><p>“Uhh, yeah?” I said, not liking where this is going. “You know him?”</p><p>“Know of him. We’re not friends. Don’t say anything. I was just curious,” Cardo said, leaning back. I nodded, then got busy wiping down my tables before Mr. Snoke started yelling at me. I served them their food and left them their bill, but left the coffee off because he and his friend were cute and that’s something you do, and they stuck around, talking quietly. I had enough in my apron to cover it, so nobody would notice the short. They talked to me when I came around, but it wasn’t really anything of note, and I couldn’t stick around too long because of my other customers. They finished their food, but didn’t leave. I figured they would at some point, but another hour rolled by and they were still there, talking quietly. There was really only one person having a bad time, but as usual it wasn’t going to stay that way.</p><p>“You need to tell your friends to leave,” Mr. Snoke said, and I sighed, then went over.</p><p>“So Mr. Snoke wants you to clear off,” I said.</p><p>Cardo glanced around the restaurant. “You don’t seem too busy,” he said.</p><p>“I’m not, but he’s absolutely the worst.”</p><p>Cardo nodded. “Hey Albrekh, you think the others are hungry?” he asked loudly, then winked. Albrekh caught on and got this charming and devilish smile.</p><p>“You know, I bet they are,” he said just as loudly with a sparkle in his eye.</p><p>“Then we should feed them. Hey Rey, I know this is sudden, but you guys don’t look too busy. Can you get me fifty orders of hashbrowns?”</p><p>The room was dead silent. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. I stared at my notepad and you know that meme with the lady doing math? It was like that except worse.</p><p> “And uh…” I stammered. “How do you want those hashbrowns?” I asked, not really sure how to react and going on autopilot. I could hear Mr. Snoke’s aneurysm from there.</p><p>“You know, everything but the gravy,” he said loudly.</p><p>“I can’t make an order that size in good faith. I need you to go ahead and pay for it. Store policy. I’m sure you understand,” Mr. Snoke said, cutting into the conversation.</p><p>“Sure,” Cardo said and slapped a black American Express card on the table. Mr. Snoke called his bluff, and Cardo did what I hadn’t expected either. I picked up the card. It was for Cardo Ren. I committed that to memory and went and ran it, and sure enough, it ran.</p><p>I took the receipt back to Cardo, then went and stood on my white tile. “Mark?” I said.</p><p>“I heard him, girl,” Mr. Snoke said, looking like he was about to explode. I came back to Cardo, and he winked at me again.</p><p>“Anyway, Albrekh, like I was saying…” He began talking to his friend again. That order took an hour to make, and by the time it was boxed up, we had a backlog of orders. I wasn’t even mad.</p><p>“I guess we caused enough trouble. Take care of yourself, Rey. Albrekh wasn’t kidding. I’m gonna be pretty busy in the next coming week, so you may not see me. I’ll definitely be back though, and I’ll bring my friends. They can put away some hashbrowns.” He said loudly, and Albrekh snickered. He then looked down at the hashbrowns. “These look like dogshit. I think I’m gonna call the daytime manager and ask them to get a new cook,” he said and left, carrying the several bags of hashbrowns to go. Albrekh had his hands full too. Mr. Snoke was more red in the face than I had ever seen him in a long time, and walked into the back. Lakesa and I couldn’t help but bust out laughing when we were sure he was safely in the walk-in.</p><p>“Remember what I said? That boy is trouble,” she said. I didn’t see him again tonight, but Cardo is definitely trouble. I think I like that trouble though. I definitely want to see him again, for sure.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. 2/23/20</h2></a>
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    <p>I haven’t seen Cardo. I keep finding myself hoping that I’ll see him at that streetlight, but I don’t. He must really be busy. Mr. Snoke did get chewed out by Ms. Organa. Apparently this nice young man had called her to complain about his behaviour to the servers, the fact that Mr. Snoke assumed the man couldn’t pay for his meal which was definitely not “store policy”, and also that Mr. Snoke told them to leave. She even ran the CCTV back. He got an official write-up, and I think if he wasn’t my boss and I wasn’t so passionate about not being homeless, I’d point and laugh. He’s making an attempt to act nicer, but Lakesa and I aren’t having it.</p><p>Cardo had in one fell swoop changed my entire workplace environment. I appreciated it, definitely, but I had to wonder why he did it. I guess he considers me a friend. I just hope that this doesn’t have repercussions. Mr. Snoke scares me, and he doesn’t seem like the type to let a slight go. I sh</p><p>Okay, sorry, there was a gunshot outside, and I’ve been on the floor for the last thirty minutes. Damn it, I hate living here sometimes. If it’s not my neighbors, it’s the meth lab and crime alley in the back. Maybe if I impress Cardo enough, I can live with him at the Bellagio (lololololol). I still feel kind of stupid. He’s all I write about anymore. Me, the confident badass Rey, who don’t need no man, is getting flustered and gushing about a boy in her journal. How many pages have I devoted to him, now? 14 or so is the count, not including margin scribbles. I almost feel sad. I need to go shower and think about something else. Maybe watch something. I have some backlogged episodes of Hannibal NBC I’ve been meaning to catch up on. Goodnight, journal. If I don’t talk about Cardo anymore it’s because I’m now in a triad with the murderhusbands. Lol.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. 2/25/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I got a letter today. Somehow mom found me, wanted to tell me about grandfather’s failing health, and that I should come home and be with them. I don’t care about Grandfather Sheev. He’s probably the worst of the bunch. It was him that decided to move us to Tay-Has in the first place. I don’t know what to do if they show up here. I don’t even know how she found me, but I know that the LVPD keeps the names and addresses of all the people that live here on file, and mine is kind of a unique name.</p><p>She probably talked to her cop buddies and they found me through police department stuff. She was also threatening to send the police to do a welfare check on me if I didn’t write her back at that point before. That’s the last thing I need. When the cops come to talk to people in this neighborhood, other people start to get suspicious. It’s dangerous and you don’t do it. I don’t really know what to do about it anymore. I want to talk to someone about it, but who can I talk to? I don’t have many friends, and this isn’t really something that a lot of people understand.<br/>I got another strange letter, but this one wasn’t in my mailbox. It was tucked into my door when I got home from work. It’s addressed to me, and has my apartment number on it, but I haven’t opened it yet. I’m kinda worried about it, honestly. Did I pick up a stalker? I don’t want to open it right now. I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m so fried. Bullshit is a whole entire mood and I’m there. I still have to cook dinner, and I kinda just want to go to the 7/11 and get some roller food. Maybe I’ll see the cute boy I’m totally not crushing on on the way. He’s been particularly scarce. Goodnight journal. I’ll add an addendum if anything exciting happens.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 2/26/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Okay, so I opened the letter. I wasn’t expecting the contents. I’ll just write it down here verbatim.</p><p>Mx. Rey<br/>My name isn’t important. What is important is that one of my associates thinks you can benefit us and our organization. I’m offering you a job. If you accept, then my associate will take care of placing you where he believes your skills will best be of use. This job pays more than you’re making at Waffle House, and includes multiple benefits. Not the health insurance kind, though I’m sure one of my other associates can help you navigate that minefield. I’m sorry for the vagueness of this letter. What we do isn’t exactly legal, and I have to protect the people in our organization. If you are curious as to what this entails, please tie a red ribbon on your doorknob. I can then send someone you know to speak to you.</p><p>Thank you for your time. This offer will not come again.<br/>Knights of Ren</p><p>And that’s it. Just a really weird letter. I’m definitely getting stalked. I know that now. Still, something about it is intriguing. And they said that they would send someone I knew. Could it be Cardo? I had him pegged as doing something illegal. He was definitely dodgy about his dayjob. I tied the red ribbon to my door to see what happens. I have my stick on me, but if I go missing and you’re reading this, I’m wearing jeans, a white tee shirt, and have on my black lace underwear.</p><p>ADDENDUM: Okay journal, technically it’s morning, but I have a lot to say. This will be a long entry. So I waited a few hours after I wrote that entry, and there was a knock on my door. I was hesitant, but opened it, and standing there was Albrekh. He was dressed in a black robe. That wasn’t normal. He was a polo and khakis kind of person.</p><p>“Hey Rey. Ready to go?”</p><p>“Where are we going?” I asked, hesitant.</p><p>I can’t tell you that, but I’m here because of the ribbon.”</p><p>“Okay, that’s creepy.”</p><p>“Right, but they sent me because Cardo was busy. It’s just a quick car ride. Come on.”</p><p>I wasn’t sure about it, but I followed him, locking my door behind me. We got into a big black truck and he handed me a black hankie.</p><p>“What exactly am I supposed to do with this?”</p><p>Blindfold yourself, but if you're not confident about your tieing skills, I can do it for you,” he said, ever helpful.</p><p>“And why am I blindfolding myself?”</p><p>“Secrecy. If you refuse the job, we can’t have you knowing where we operate.”</p><p>I didn’t like the sound of that, but I guess I couldn’t argue. We rode in silence for a few minutes, then the doors opened and Albrekh led me by my hands… somewhere. I imagined I was going inside a building. After a few minutes, I was stopped and the blindfold was taken off my head. I was in what looked like a warehouse. There were a few people about, doing a variety of things. Cardo was standing in front of me in some weird black robe with a mask on his face. I knew it was Cardo. He was the right height and had purple hair. His mask looked like a featureless mask, but it had tentacles coming up from the bottom like they were trying to drag the mask into the black robes. Next to him was this… guy? He had scars all across his face, but didn’t seem to let that bother him. He had longish grey hair, and wasn’t dressed in a black robe. Instead, he was wearing what looked like riot armor? He was also Black. The most unsettling part and the part I picked up on was his eyes. They were the same golden yellow that Cardo’s were. Next to him on the other side was another guy with a black robe. His features were hidden behind a mask that looked like the cross between a respirator and sheer terror. It was black and silver, and covered his whole head, more like a helmet. The people moving around were all wearing black robes with the hoods up and had helmets on. The helmets actually looked unique to each person.</p><p>“You’re Rey?” The man asked.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“I’m Ren. Leader of the Knights of Ren. Cardo believes you can be useful to us. I’m inclined to listen to him, as he’s rarely wrong.”<br/>“I thought I recognized that hair,” I said, looking at Cardo. Cardo and Ren looked at eachother, then in response, Cardo lifted the hood on his robes.</p><p>“Sorry, we have some ceremony. Standing before you is I, the leader of the Knights of Ren, to my right is the one that has spoken for you, and to my left is the one that will test you, if you accept of course. What we do isn’t legal, and if you choose to work with us, you will have to go through a couple of rites. There is the rite of naming, the rite of initiation, you know, the fun ones.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, am I getting a job or joining a cult?” I asked.</p><p>Ren didn’t seem offended. He smiled. “I guess a little of both. The Knights of Ren operate the way we do because of the spirituality of our members. We’re mostly pagan.”</p><p>“I’m not religious,” I said.</p><p>“And neither is Cardo. You don’t have to be. You just have to respect the process. I’m not going to sugarcoat what we do here. We’re militant anti-fascists. The kind that they call terrorists. We strike out and kill fascists where we find them, and there are a lot in Las Vegas. While you may not be assigned particularly to a kill-team, wherever you are assigned, you will be assisting in the elimination of fascism as one of a team of moving parts.”</p><p>I blinked. Journal, it was a lot to take in. I had just been a server at Waffle House, and now here I was, being offered a job to kill fascists. Like it was as normal as fucking clearing dirty dishes.</p><p>“We do need an answer tonight, before you leave here, but you have some time to talk about it, and you can speak to Cardo about it too. He thinks very highly of you,” Ren said, patting Cardo’s back.</p><p>“I very much would like to talk to him,” I said, staring him down. “Maybe without the mask.”</p><p>“It’s for my safety. The Knights only meet in big groups like this for initiations or kill teams, and if the feds pop up, we want our faces hidden,” Cardo said and produced another mask from the folds of his robes. This one was white and featureless, and was only held on by an elastic band. “You need to wear one too.”</p><p>“This is kind of stupid.”</p><p>“Be that as it may, we have our rules for a reason. You need to get over that. You aren’t expected to serve without question, but you are expected to still follow the rules.” He extended the mask. He was wearing gloves. I guess I put it on because he wanted me to? I was definitely curious.</p><p>“Cardo, please talk to your initiate about our organization. We’re going to continue moving these supplies,” Ren said and stepped away. The other guy followed him. Cardo looked at her then gestured a little deeper in the warehouse, where there was no movement. I followed him. I should have freaked out and run, but I was more intrigued. This was so much more than I had imagined, and something about him being in a cult and killing fascists was incredibly sexy to me.</p><p>“So, this is your job?”</p><p>“No. I maintain the mushrooms and grow them. I said I was a chemist.”</p><p>“So you are a drug dealer?”</p><p>“No. Again, that’s not my job. I grow them, make sure they’re happy, make sure they don’t get contaminated, and take care of the science behind it all. Albrekh is responsible for getting me supplies and equipment. He’s the people person that can smile and sell coal to people in Hell. Someone else sells.”</p><p>“Mushrooms though? I expected something sexy like meth or LSD.”</p><p>“It’s very hard to get precursors in Las Vegas. Especially for a felon. Albrekh could probably do it, but there’s not much of a market there either. Mushrooms have a market, they’re easy to grow and have a very low risk to kill the user, there’s plenty of people willing to buy, and there is talk of getting it legalized, which will help us out quite a bit.”</p><p>“Legalization helps you? You think that’d hinder your sales. People are less likely to buy illegally if they can get it legally.”</p><p>“Obviously, we’d move to make our business legal. We have bonuses. We’re already established. People know us and know our product is bonafide and not laced with anything. We’d legalize our grow room, and at that point, we could move to sell at medicinal prices. It’s the same thing that happened with marijuana. Same business plan. Again, that’s not my job. I grow. I don’t sell. I don’t do anything outside of the grow room except for the occasional kill mission. If it involves explosives, I get to be there.”</p><p>“You said something about being a felon?”</p><p>“Yeah, what do you really think I left Bristol because of Brexit? I got caught manufacturing pipe bombs in my mom’s garage, and in the UK, that’s a life sentence, no parole. So I fled to America, and hooked up with some Antifa contacts. They said my skills and knowledge would be good here, and they weren’t wrong.”</p><p>“Pipe bombs!?”</p><p>Some of the other Knights of Ren glanced in their direction.</p><p>“You could be quieter. That’s like yelling bomb on an airplane, and we aren’t in a vacant part of town. Yes, pipe bombs. I was manufacturing them and my friends were mailing them to fascists.”</p><p>“How did you not blow yourself up?”</p><p>“Steady hands. Now, do you have any questions?”</p><p>“I guess, what would my job be?”</p><p>“Ideally, I’d keep you in the grow lab. I could teach you how to tend the mushrooms, and you could keep me and Albrekh company. What’s more likely, however, is that you’ll be working with Albrekh on procurement and selling to dealers. We get our mushroom spores straight from the source in Mexico, Maria Sabina style, and they always are a little more willing to help when we send a girl that can waggle her tits the right way.”</p><p>“I’m not whoring for you,” I said, stomping my foot.</p><p>“That’s not what I said, Rey. No one is going to lay a hand on you. They’re just farmers that are friendlier with people of your persuasion. Albrekh is good and likable, but you’ve seen him. He’s the essence of an upper class white boy, and that sometimes makes him a target, or they think that he’s not serious. Think of how white people have treated them their entire lives. You’re white, but you have tits, and that’s almost as good as not being white. You’d be providing him security and opening doors he can’t open himself.”</p><p>I had to think about it. It was a good gig. I didn’t know the pay yet, but it couldn’t be bad. Drugs were lucrative, and I got to stomp fascism.<br/>“What’s the pay?”</p><p>“I can afford a room at the Bellagio, and if anyone gives you trouble or you need some muscle, you have the Knights to back you up. We take care of our own. I can promise the pay is nice. The question is, can you stomach the work? He wasn’t blowing hot air. We’ve killed several fascists. I’ve had their blood on my clothes. It’s not something just anyone can do.”</p><p>“From the sounds of things, that won’t be my actual job, right?” I asked. It wasn’t like I hadn’t fantasized about it and was all for the guillotine talk on Facebook. I might as well put my money where my mouth is.</p><p>“Fine. Then I think this is something that you can do. We’re gonna take care of your Rite of Naming, and your Rite of Initiation, but after that, we can go back to my place and celebrate, just us.”</p><p>That sounded great. Alone time with Cardo? I hadn’t had that since I met him, or at least, not in a room away from other people. It's always been on the street.</p><p>“Tomorrow, I can show you the grow room and get you acquainted with the space. It’s actually in your backyard, so you don’t have to go far.”<br/>“Umm, what?”</p><p>“Yeah, what, you think we cook meth in that place? Like I said, precursors are hard to come by, and we have an actual lab when we do come across some.” He started walking back over to where the rest of the Knights were, and I followed him. Ren glanced up and came over.<br/>“So, have you made your decision?”</p><p>“I have. I’d like to join the Knights of Ren.”</p><p>He nodded. “Kylo!” He said loudly, and the man with the helmet came back over. “Let’s see what she’s capable of. What’s your weapon, Rey?”<br/>“I guess I have a telescopic baton for a pinch, but if I had time to prepare, I have had formal training with a Bo-Staff.”</p><p>He nodded, and one of the other knights, who I assumed was Albrekh came up to me and handed me a stick. It was made of good solid metal and I was surprised that the balance was good. It even had a strap on it where I could hold it over my shoulder. Albrekh’s mask was also a helmet, and it looked like a traditional knight’s helmet with a visor and everything. Made sense. Albrekh was the name of a 16th century knight, and I was starting to realize that these names weren’t their real names. They were likely code names, and I was going to have one too.<br/>Kylo pulled a literal sword with a crossguard from where it was resting on the wall. It was huge, and he had to have two hands to lift it.<br/>“I’m not going to hurt you, but this is a test to see what you’re capable of. Go ahead and pretend that I’m really trying to harm you. Don’t worry, I wear armor,” He said in what was clearly a modulated deep voice. I nodded, then he swung at me. I expected some kind of warning or bell or something, but there wasn’t any of that, and that sword was coming in faster than I thought a human could swing it.</p><p>I got the staff up just in time and in the way, then kicked his sword, knocking it out of the way. I then brought the staff up and thrust it into his chest, then brought it up in a guard. He staggered backwards, and put the claymore behind him. I recognized it from my martial arts training. They called this “Tiger Tail.” He was watching me, and I kept my staff up in a guard, circling around him. The other Knights had formed a circle around us with Ren standing tall, his arms crossed. Cardo was silent, watching. Kylo brought his blade around, and I had planned for it, dropping my staff low to block, then, when he needed to apply his weight to bring it back around, I jumped, using the staff as leverage, and kicked him in the chest. He fell backwards and looked at me from the floor, clearly impressed. Everyone clapped.</p><p>Kylo stood back up and charged forward with his blade, then tackled me with his shoulder in the gut, which knocked the wind out of me, and I fell. He raised his blade high in the air and brought it down, but slowed, so that when it got to my throat, it was just resting on it. “Dead. Your stick isn’t gonna kill anyone unless you apply enough force. Your technique is good, but we could work on some muscle exercises. We don’t have a staff fighter, but Albrekh uses a longsword, and it’s close enough. Cardo will also teach you how to shoot.”</p><p>“You people just walk around with swords?” I asked from my position on the ground. Kylo rested his sword tip in the dirt and leaned down, offering me a hand.</p><p>“They look like antiques, and we look like larpers. No one asks questions,” he said, then stepped back next to Ren.</p><p>“So, now we do the Rite of Naming, which honestly isn’t as fun as it sounds. I come up with a name, you kneel, I ‘knight you’ and give you your name, and that’s the Rite of Naming and Initiation all rolled into one. Kneel,” he said, and Albrekh stepped forward, offering him his sword. It was shining and polished steel with a gold crossguard. It was actually very beautiful. I knelt down, and he tapped my shoulders with the sword. “You kneel as Rey, but you rise as Sephi Ren, Knight of Ren. Rise Sephi.”</p><p>I stood and they all clapped. “Now, that’s it. Cardo will get with you tomorrow and assign you. He thinks you’ll be good in the grow room, so we’ll put you in the grow room. He’ll also take you home. The rest of you, these crates need to get to Nellis. Let’s load them up,” he said, turning to the crew. Cardo came up to me and nodded, then gestured out of the building. When we stepped out, I knew where we were. This was a building under construction on Sands Avenue. He went over to a sporty black two door, which honestly, I don’t know why I was surprised. I guess I was expecting a motorcycle.</p><p>He got in and I joined him, then he took his mask off. It looked to be a more permanent kind and was molded to his face, and now that I could see it, it looked like it was attached to a kind of helmet too. “So, that’s it. Congratulations. You’re one of us now,” he said, backing up the car.</p><p>“Am I a member of a cult or a street gang?”</p><p>“A little of both, honestly.”</p><p>I didn’t know what else to say. The night had taken a weird turn, for sure. “So, in a few days, we’re gonna truly get you intitiated with the blood of a real Nazi. We have one that I think you’ll take pleasure in taking care of. Also, I’m not calling you Sephi. That’s your name when we are on a mission, but otherwise, you’re Rey. They’ll probably call you Seph. Your eyes and aura will come to you with time, and I’ll teach you how to use it.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, what?” I asked. He was saying that those were real things? What was this, the twilight zone?”</p><p>“It’s hard to explain and has to do with quantum physics. Just know that we are founded on pagan principles and practices, and not all of that was fake quasi-mysticism. Some of it was very real. You’ve felt my aura, and you’ve seen my eyes. These aren’t contacts. You can’t say it’s not real. It’s just hard to explain.”</p><p>I didn’t know how I felt about all that, but he wasn’t lying. I did feel these things and I knew they were there. How do you quantify that? Was there science involved? He definitely wasn’t spiritual, but he believed in this. There were things in the world that not everyone could explain. It was probably like that.</p><p>We got back to the Bellagio and he flashed a paper at the little box, and the bar raised letting him in, and he went to park in reserved parking. He parked then articulated funny, trying to get the robe off and not get out of the car. I made the same movements when I had to take my bra off but keep my shirt on, which had happened on more than one occasion. He figured it out then tossed the heavy robe in the back. I wasn’t expecting him to be shirtless underneath. I mean, I definitely wasn’t complaining. He had a lot more tattoos than I thought he did, including the Antifa black flag symbol on his left bicep, there was a caricature of what I assumed was Buckingham palace on fire under it, and then the white house on fire under that, all going down his left bicep to the elbow. On the other side he had a stylized shield that I had seen somewhere before that looked like stained glass, and it flowed down into a full sleeve of stained glass depicting some kind of story. It looked really familiar, and I had to wonder, was that Wind Waker? Was he a gamer? It was beautiful in greens, blues, and reds. It was definitely Legend of Zelda. I’d know that blonde bastard in green anywhere. He had the scorpion on his neck, of course, and there was a pokeball of all things on his left breast, which made me want to giggle. So he did have hobbies. The last thing that I noticed was a spidery crawl across his shoulder blades in what looked like Old English lettering. “Let the past die.” Then under it, in the same lettering, “Kill it if you have to.”</p><p>There were more, because I noticed more, and he definitely had more under the pants he was wearing, but he managed to get a shirt on before I could really identify the rest of them. He then put on his vest, sans sleeves this time. It has been warm lately. He looked at me like he had forgotten I was in the car, then opened his door. “What are you waiting for? We’re here.” He asked. I couldn’t tell him that I was staring at his naked torso, could I? He seemed the type to take it in stride, but I wasn’t that brave. Instead, I said nothing and got out of the car. We walked quietly through the Bellagio, and yeah, I’d been here before, but something about it was different when you were there with a hot boy. He weaved through the crowd like a shark through a school of fish, and I worked to keep up with him, processing the night in our silence. It was a lot to take in, and now I was going with the hot boy up to his room. Did I finally wear the right underwear?</p><p>His room was on the 7th floor, and I rolled my eyes. It was 777. That was just a cheap joke. He put his key in and went inside, holding the door for me, and I followed him. It wasn’t what I had expected. There was a big desktop sitting on the provided desk with a pair of gaming headphones, the TV was there, but the cable box was disconnected and a Roku was plugged in in its place, and there was a hamper of clothes in the corner which was maybe half full. There was also a minibar, which he went over to and crouched down in front of. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but I didn’t expect him to be so… normal? This whole time, he’d been some mystery that I was hunting down and trying to understand, but he was just a normal guy. “Sorry it’s kind of a mess. I don’t like maids coming in here,” he said, standing and picking up some clothes on the floor. It also smelled just like his cigarettes, which I was really into, thanks for that, Pavlov. I did notice that he had some color to his wardrobe, wearing purples and blues, but he didn’t seem the type to appreciate warm colors. I also noticed the brightly colored boxer-briefs in the pile of clothes he was carrying that he wasn’t paying much attention to. Those would be cute as hell on him.</p><p>“It’s not that messy in here. You’re fine,” I said, waking across the room and sitting in the comfy chair that always came in hotel rooms. I didn’t know if he’d be comfortable with me sitting on his bed, and for some reason, I was second guessing everything I did, because I’m a dumb girl being flustered by a stupid boy and now I was in his room so if I fucked up I couldn’t very well blame it on anything or anyone else, and my anxiety was in overdrive.</p><p>He sat on the bed and got into the bedside drawer, pulling out a THC vape, which I had suspected from him. There was no way that you could do all of THAT for a living and not have some way to wind down, but I did picture him as a bong or joint kind of guy. I also noticed the box of condoms in there, but didn’t say anything about that either. I had figured I wasn’t the only ho in that room. It actually took the edge off a little. I didn’t have to work to impress him. He’d seen enough to know what to expect, and if he invited me back to his room, that was basically saying I passed some kind of test and was probably a little fuckable. I don’t know why my brain kept going there, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.</p><p>He pressed the button on the vape and took a pull, then passed it to me. “I know this is bad form, but I don’t have any flower. You willing to smoke with me?”</p><p>I took it with a smile, and took a pull, while he lit a cigarette and spun in the bed, reclining. I guess he didn’t want to hit it too hard. I knew what brand he smoked now though. He left the pack on the nightstand. Who still smokes Lucky Strikes? What was this, the seventies? I noticed that he didn’t even take his boots off, just reclining with his arms behind his head and the cigarette hanging out of his mouth.<br/>“So, I can answer all your questions now. I’m sorry I was dodgy before. I’m sure you’re curious about a lot of things,” he said. His cigarette was bobbing around as he talked. It was kinda cute.</p><p>“I do, but some of them are gonna cause OSHA violations.”</p><p>He snorted, then removed one of his hands from behind his bed and tapped the ash into a soon to be overflowing ashtray. “I figured we’d talk about that too. I noticed your eyes in the car. Is that what we’re calling it now since we’re technically co-workers?”</p><p>“Look, good people died so that we could have these rules. You can’t just go violating them however you want. Violate me instead,” I said, being as bold as I knew how. It was a huge risk, and I didn’t even know if he was into it. Instead of speaking, he glanced over at me and raised an eyebrow. The one with the piercing. That was my favorite piercing he had.</p><p>“Too forward?”</p><p>“No. I assumed we’d get there. I wouldn’t have invited you back if I didn’t plan to have sex with you. I don’t see why we can’t take our time though and find a natural way to ease into it. I actually like you for more reasons than your body,” he said.</p><p>I didn’t actually know what to say. I hadn’t expected him to be honest about it. Usually these things were spontaneous, at least, for me. I was happy with my underwear decisions.</p><p>“But as we were saying, you probably have questions. I can answer them. I’ve been with the Knights of Ren for a good while now.”<br/>“How long?”</p><p>“Four years. The only one that’s been here longer than me is Kylo. We lose people sometimes, sometimes people get put in jail, but more often, if you know there is no way out, you suicide by cop so that you don’t compromise the Brotherhood.”</p><p>“Did you just make an Assassin’s Creed joke?”</p><p>“I’m a gamer. I’m sure you noticed my set-up.”</p><p>“I hadn’t actually considered that you might be a gamer. You don’t seem like you would be.”</p><p>“Looks can be deceiving. Ren is gay, but he doesn’t look or act like it. Albrekh is gay too, and I’m technically non-binary and also pan. We’re Antifa. Of course we’re all some form of gay, disabled, or queer.”</p><p>“Oh. Should I call you they then?” I asked, totally freaking out that I might have misgendered the cute person on accident.</p><p>“No. How do you misgender something that has no gender? That’s my take on it. My gender is punk trash with a side of toast. He is fine.”</p><p>I snorted. I couldn’t help it. He was really cute and funny when he wanted to be. It was almost like the time he had come to Waffle House. He was cute and charming then too. “So you know I have to ask.”</p><p>He made a motion with his hand for me to continue. The pot was kicking in so I was more relaxed, and my filter was a bit looser.<br/>“Do you have a girlfriend?”</p><p>“I planned to have one by the end of the night, if that was something you wanted.”</p><p>I’m pretty sure I turned red. It was the way he said it, like we were discussing tea. What the fuck of course I wanted that? Had I not been throwing game? I was pretty sure I was throwing game. Am I so bad at this that my game was bad? </p><p>“I would be a fool to say no.”</p><p>“Alright, I guess we’re dating now. You can come sit on the bed now and stop being weird,” he said with a grin. I came over and instead of sitting in the bed, I laid down next to him. I didn’t touch him or anything. I still thought that’d be weird, and he said he was uncomfortable with it, but I laid on my side with my arm up looking at him. He just looked off into space at the ceiling, occasionally taking a drag of his cigarette. I assumed that he was riding out the high. “Do you want a drink? Technically this is a celebration. As Albrekh would say in that dramatic way he does, welcome to the pack, sister.”</p><p>I snorted again. “That’s gross. We’re not wolves. Don’t do that.”</p><p>“I know, I know. I love Albrekh, but he’s a dramatic thot.”</p><p>“To answer your question, I’ll take something, but I’m not big on alcohol.”</p><p>“That’s fine. I don’t drink much either. I have a rum and coke in social situations. How about soda?” He got to his feet and left the room, presumably to go down the hall to grab something from the vending machine. I kinda wanted to snoop around, but at the same time, that was probably very rude and invasive. Had I not had a boyfriend in that long? I instead took the opportunity to use the bathroom and freshen up so that when we did get to the point where our pants came off, it wouldn’t be gross and sweaty.</p><p>I came out and he was already back with a soda sitting on my end of the bed. Pepsi. Yiss. He had a Dr. Pepper, which I hadn’t expected. He was so normal. Why did it bother me that he was normal? I laid back on the bed, this time just reclining like he did. “When I get out of a social engagement like that, I just want to relax with one or two people and watch TV or something. I figured you might feel the same way.”<br/>“Not exactly, but I see the appeal,” I said, and took a chance, resting my hand on his arm. He didn’t seem bothered by it. This was the first real time we touched, and it was electric. It was so different from a Tinder date. “I have a lot of thoughts right now. Some of them are wondering what other tattoos you’re hiding under those clothes. I guess I’ll figure that out, though, huh?”</p><p>“There’s a story with each one,” He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the stained glass. “This is the Hylian shield.” He pointed at the shield, “And this is the story of the Ocarina of Time and Majora’s Mask. It was the first game memory I have, sitting down and booting it up for the first time.” He then lifted the other sleeve, revealing the flaming buildings. “This is obviously the antifa symbol, Buckingham Palace on fire, and then the White House on fire. I’m very anti-government, or at least, I’m anti the governments we have. He sat up and took his vest then shirt off, much to my surprise and pleasure. “This is a pokeball, obviously, and my first one.” He pointed at it on his chest. “And on my back is the motto of the Knights of Ren. Let the past die, kill it if you have to. The tramp stamp is because I could,” He said, and pulled down his pants a little to let me look. It was swirling vines with thorns, that met in the middle where there was a blooming blue rose. I also took stock of the shape of his body. He wasn’t super fit or anything, but he could definitely whip someone’s ass if he had to, and by the sounds of things, he had before. I was interested in the dark trail of hair that led down past his belt, and whatever surprises waited there. I also noted that it was the same shade of dark purple. I had a feeling that Albrekh wasn’t the only dramatic one, though they were dramatic in different ways.</p><p>“I don’t have anymore, actually. I kept my legs clear. I had planned to get some on my hips at some point, but haven’t. I haven’t found the right thing.”</p><p>I couldn’t help but reach out and run my hand across the stained glass. It had a little texture, because it was a tattoo. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t like being touched in certain circumstances, I was guessing. There was something else too. His skin was particularly nice to the touch. More so than most people, and it wasn’t that he lotioned and exfoliated. Maybe there was some truth to that aura thing that he was talking about. “What about you? Have any tattoos?”</p><p>“No. I never had the money for them.”</p><p>“Well, you do now.” he put his cigarette butt in the ashtray and took a sip of his soda. “I’m terrible at entertaining. I brought you here, and I don’t know what to do.”</p><p>“It’s okay. I like talking to you. I guess I built you up to be something in my head. I wasn’t expecting you to be a normal person.”</p><p>He snorted, picking up the TV and Roku remote. I was kinda interested in what he watched in his spare time, and I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. He was a chemist and kept up equipment, right? He had things like Forged in Fire, a surprising amount of anime (So much fucking anime my GAWD), and he turned on Bob’s Burgers, which I guess was fine. I wasn’t paying attention, but it made the room not so stiflingly quiet.</p><p>“So, this is what you do? Get high, lay in bed half dressed, and watch cartoons?” I asked.</p><p>“Is there anything more to life?” He asked, squirming out of his jeans, and I suddenly felt overdressed and couldn’t look away. He was wearing green tight boxer briefs that shimmered a little in the light. I didn’t know if colorful underwear was a thing for him or what, but I totally wasn’t complaining. He didn’t seem to register that there was a girl that wanted to fuck him in his bed, or if he did, he’d done this before to not even turn a little pink at the prospect. I took another gamble, taking my shirt off then laying on his chest and placing my hand on his stomach, playing with the purple hair that I found there. It was pleasant and soft to the touch, and for a moment, I wondered if he conditioned, it was so soft. He wrapped his arm around me and resituated himself, and I was definitely into all his shit now. I was bought and paid for and ride or die, and I wondered if he knew that. He couldn’t. Did he know how my brain worked? I also figured that it was still new. That feeling might fade over time, but currently, he could tell me he was the unabomber, and I’d still stick around. Wait, wasn’t he like… the UK Unabomber? Pipe bombs. I remember that.</p><p>“Do you sing?” I asked, remembering my errant thought from weeks ago like it was yesterday.</p><p>“I can. I won’t,” he said.</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“I don’t sing for no reason, and usually only when I work.”</p><p>“Isn’t that bad for mushrooms? It introduces bacteria, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“I wear a mask, Rey. Christ.”</p><p>“I don’t know what you do!”</p><p>“You’ll see it all tomorrow. It’s not nearly as fun as you’d think. I plug in my phone to the dock, and we check the tubs for any foreign bacteria growing in the substrate, then I go in the dark room and check on the substrates and cultures in there while Albrekh does his correspondence with our dealers and sees if there is any new groundbreaking research. There usually isn’t, but we need to stay cutting edge. After that, we lock the growroom and break for lunch, then go to the armory and work on the weapons and armor of the Knights of Ren. We like to make sure they’re clean and oiled, and I do reloading, which takes a while. Sometimes we build a bomb in the safe room. Those days are fun. More fun now that I have a flak jacket.”</p><p>He said these things like he was listing off groceries. We definitely lived in two separate worlds, but wasn’t I a part of it now? I had always dreamed about active resistance, but it was baffling now that I was a part of it. My mom would have a stroke, for sure. Fuck, I had forgotten about that.</p><p>“So, there is a thing we should probably talk about.”</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>“My parents. I guess my family. I got a letter from my mother tonight. Apparently my grandfather is in poor health, which is fine. He was the one that moved us to Texas in the first place. The part that worries me is that she’s threatening to send the police to my house if I don’t get a hold of her, and that doesn’t really bother me either, but when the police come and talk to you in my apartment complex, the neighbors get concerned, and it’s just unpleasant.”</p><p>“What’s her name?” He asked, pulling over his phone.</p><p>“No, Cardo. That’s not what I need. I just felt like you should be informed, since we’re basically terrorists.”</p><p>He did that thing with his mouth. I don’t know how to describe it. “Then I guess you can’t stay there. There’s ways to disappear in this city. We can move you somewhere else, and we need to burn off your fingerprints as quickly as possible.”</p><p>“Burn… Burn off my fingerprints?”</p><p>“Yeah. It hurts, but we all did it. You just dip your hands in hydrochloric acid until it eats them off, then suffer a little chemical burn for a few days. We wrap your hands in towels, and you know, it takes care of that.”</p><p>I lifted myself off his chest and blinked at him, and he started to crack up. I guess it was the look on my face.</p><p>“Rey, I’m fucking with you.”</p><p>I flopped back on his chest and slapped his stomach cause it was the closest thing to me, and he laughed about it. I just felt like an idiot.</p><p>“No, we use a lighter instead.”</p><p>“I hate you so much.”</p><p>He laughed again. “You get used to my humor. It’s a little dark. I guess being a terrorist does that to you.”</p><p>“I don’t really find this funny.”</p><p>He stopped laughing immediately. “Sorry. It’s not fun if everyone isn’t having a good time. I’m serious about this though, when I take you home, you need to start packing. We can move you quickly. You may have to crash here for a few days. How do you feel about a storage unit?”</p><p>“I’m not living in a storage unit!”</p><p>“Not you, oh my god. Your stuff. You can stay here, but I don’t have room for your stuff.”</p><p>“Oh,” I said, feeling, once again, like an idiot. “Yeah, okay. I don’t mind one. I probably don’t want to leave a papertrail, though.”</p><p>He sighed. “You’re not a criminal. I have to remind myself of that. You’re fine with a paper trail. You don’t have a record, and there’s no warrant out for your arrest. It’s the kind of paper trail you leave that’s important. For example, you aren’t going to put your address on the unit at my room in the Bellagio. I’m a wanted international criminal. Instead, you can put it at the place you’re leaving and explain that you’re staying with a friend and will update it when you find a new place. It’s a lie, because you aren’t going to actually update it, but they don’t know that, and they don’t have a way to note that in their system. Besides all that, you’re not going to have anything felony related in the unit. It’s just the contents of your house. That kind of a paper trail is fine, and having none at all is suspicious as fuck if people do look into you. We all have selective paper trails that lead to legal shenanigans, and keep the illegal stuff in buildings that are vacant. The armory is in a warehouse, and the safe room where we build bombs is in the warehouse across the street from it, and that’s in the industrial district where sometimes, things just blow up. Those warehouses are connected to Kylo, which isn’t Kylo’s real name, keeping the two entities separate. It’s very important that you keep your criminal identity and your real identity separate.”</p><p>“Which is why we have codenames, and identification attached to them.”</p><p>“You’re catching on. When my driver’s license says Cardo Ren, people aren’t going to ask if that’s actually my name, now that we have legal adults running around with names like Kalissi and Drago.”</p><p>“What if I want to know your real name?”</p><p>That made him uncomfortable. I don’t know how I knew, if it was a change in his face or if his body language changed, but he didn’t like that question. “I don’t tell people that. Not even you. Only Ren and Kylo know, and that’s because I didn’t have a new name when I joined. Sorry.”<br/>I felt like I shouldn’t push the subject if it made him so uncomfortable. It didn’t actually matter in the long run. It was my curious ass that wanted to know, and I feel like, if I stick around long enough, he’ll tell me eventually if I can know. I decided to go back to the original topic. </p><p>“So where would I be moved to?”</p><p>“It’s more like where do you want to go? Vegas is a big place. Albrekh lives in an apartment in North Vegas, Kylo owns a house in Henderson. Fuck, I think Kuruk lives in a gated community not far from here. We can put you anywhere.”</p><p>I didn’t really have an opinion, then something occurred to me. “What if I wanted to live with you?”</p><p>He sighed. “The only problem with that is that while it’s a big room, I still live in a hotel room. There’s not enough room for both of us.”</p><p>“Did you think maybe we can get an apartment for both of us?”</p><p>He was probably giving me that look, but I couldn’t look at his face.</p><p>“I mean, I know we’re dating now, but I prefer my solitude, and we should probably do the dating thing a little longer before we consider moving in together.”</p><p>He was right. That didn’t mean I liked hearing it. I needed to get myself back under control. He was just a boy, Rey. Calm down.</p><p>“I don’t know. I don’t really have a place in mind right now.”</p><p>“That’s fine,” he said, and started scratching my back idly. I liked it. It felt great. I guess he picked up on that, because with one hand, which is some skill, even for me, he unhooked my bra and scratched my back for me. He didn’t even try to get my bra off, just unhooking it. He was just happy that I felt good, I guess. I had expected us to rip each other’s clothing off in a fit of lust or passion, but this wasn’t that bad either, and it was less awkward. After a few minutes, I took the bra off entirely and threw it on the floor. He was looking, though he didn’t say anything. I decided it was time to fuck.</p><p>I threw my leg over his and straddled him, sliding myself slowly up his torso, and then kissed him gently. He moved one hand to my hip, and the other one to my collar, close enough to my neck that I thought he might choke me, but he didn’t. I was glad and a little disappointed at it, honestly. I didn’t know what I wanted from him, really. He kissed me gently, and it was small at first. Then he left my lips and his own trailed down my neck in gentle kisses, his hand moving from my collarbone to wrap around to the back of my neck. I had no idea what he was doing with that hand. It was odd. His kissing went from my neck to my collar, and I sat up a little straighter, and he trailed down from my collar to the top of my breast. His hand on my neck drifted down to my upper back, giving me a little support, which I was thankful for. Then he bit my nipple. I guess I had hoped for it, but it’s one thing to hope for it, and another for it to actually happen, and I squeaked. He didn’t bite me very hard, but it was probably the anticipation that made it happen. He looked up at me, not pulling away, just looking up, and I looked down at him and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I was blushing like an idiot. He closed his eyes again, and I twined one of my hands through that deep purple hair like I had secretly been wanting to do when I realized I was into him. I knew now, he definitely conditioned his hair. It was soft and feathery, if a little thick.</p><p>I put my other hand on his shoulder, just because I didn’t really know what to do with it, and the whole time, he was licking my nipples and it felt great. I couldn’t stop a few gasps from escaping my throat, and he pulled away and kissed me again, this time a little harder. His weird hand went back to my collarbone, gripping it lightly, and I stopped caring, pushing him back against the headboard, or the pillow he was resting on, and bit a funny colored part of his neck. He grunted a little, but the way he did it, he enjoyed it a little rougher, I guess, so I bit it again. I pushed his shoulders against the headboard and bit all the way around his neck, then decided to take another gamble, and wrapped my hand lightly around his throat.</p><p>Okay, so he didn’t like that, he pushed me away hard, and I fell backwards. He had fear in his eyes for a moment, then concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay?”</p><p>“You didn’t hurt me. Are you okay?” I asked, immediately forgetting that I wanted to fuck this guy and sat back up. Okay, that wasn’t true. The selfish and more forceful side of me wanted to slap him and make him listen to me, but I was a good person, and we hadn’t negotiated shit, so this wasn’t a scene or anything and I wasn’t his domme.</p><p>“I don’t like my neck to be grabbed. I have… injuries? That’s as much as I want to say about it. Just don’t grab my neck, I guess. I should have told you. I didn’t think it’d come up.”</p><p>That explained the texture difference. “Can I ask? No is an acceptable answer.”</p><p>He sighed, then motioned me forward and moved his neck a little. There was a raised portion where the color was off a little, definitely a scar. It looked like a cut. “I don’t want to explain how it happened. I had a shitty family. Let’s leave it at that. Just don’t grab my neck, okay?”</p><p>I nodded, not really sure how to get this back on track. I felt bad for… I scared him. He was trying to play it off, but I remembered that half a second of fear, and I probably wouldn’t forget it. He was terrified when I grabbed his neck, and I guess if someone had tried to hurt me around that area, I would have been scared if some stranger just suddenly grabbed it too. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t feel sorry for me,” he said, then pushed me backwards more gently, climbing on top of me. Those yellow eyes that had been so unsettling at first bored into me, and I was into that. He leaned down and kissed me gently again, then slowly worked his way down, first kissing my chin, then my neck, and going all the way down to my stomach. His mouth felt great on my stomach, and I had to keep from moaning. I had lived on my own for so long, I had gotten loud. My neighbors knew I had a great sex life. Well, it was a little mediocre. Most of the sex was fine, but it was nothing to write home about. This though, this guy knew what he was doing, and I quivered a little when he touched me. I don’t really know why that was happening. It had never happened before. At first I thought I might be cold, but he kept it a little warm in the room.</p><p>I stopped paying attention to that when he unbuttoned my pants with one hand. He was good at this one hand thing. Great manual dexterity. I kinda hoped I’d be experiencing that soon enough. I was glad I wore cute underwear today, and it was the brown and blue ones. He worked my pants down, kissing everything the whole way, making it a great experience. He got my pants off and unceremoniously dumped them on the floor, then looked at my underwear. “Nice wrapping paper. You know I’m gonna rip them off of you, right?”</p><p>“You could cut them off me. I hate them. They’re uncomfortable and totally there for your benefit.”</p><p>He shrugged and pulled a metal… it looked like a  metal bar with a switch on it… from the table, then flicked the switch, and a knife blade came out. “I wasn’t being literal!” I said loudly, and he grinned, then flicked the knife blade back in.</p><p>I wouldn’t actually hurt you. There is something about the cool metal of a knife against hot skin that I find arousing. I can understand that it’s not for everyone though.”</p><p>“Maybe next time we negotiate first?”</p><p>He grinned then put the knife back on the table. While he was distracted, I got my legs out from under me and pounced on him, pushing him back against the headboard. There was a solid thump as the headboard hit the wall. He was really into that. I pinned his hands for a minute and licked my lips as seductively as I knew how, then ground my own crotch into his, letting him feel the heat between my legs and fuck, he was so hard. He also wasn’t as big as I made him out to be? Average really, if a little on the thicker side of things. That was fine. Long dicks hurt and I didn’t feel like having a bruised cervix, but he was thick enough that I’d get that overstuffed feeling in a fun way, but not long enough that he could hurt me if he pounded me, which I really desperately wanted. Most women didn’t like just getting rammed into, but I did. That probably says something about me.</p><p>Anyway! This is a huge journal entry, so I’ll skip through most of what happened and get to the fun part. We eventually shed all of our clothes, and it was what I had expected it to be. He was average, and yes, he was well groomed, and yes, he dyed his pubes purple. Dramatic, definitely. He also liked a little hair himself. Normally I would have gone hardwood, but it had been a few days, and he admitted to liking it anyway. I sucked on him for a while. Not much to explain there. You suck one dick, you’ve sucked them all. He wasn’t really into it, I guess. He didn’t go limp on me or anything, he just told me that it wasn’t as good for him. I didn’t really know what to do about that. It wasn’t a response I was used to. When I was done, he pushed me over then ate me out and OH MY GAWD that boy has a magic tongue and he traded his hands with the devil or something. His fingers felt great inside of me. He licked me and fingered my g-spot for five minutes and I couldn’t stop myself from cumming and I ruined his bed. I’ve came before. I know where my G-spot is, even if most men don’t. The thing is, I’ve never… I guess squirted before? Fuck, I hate that word. It’s such a gross squicky word. I don’t know how else to describe what happened though, so I guess that’s the one I’m using. I squirted, and I had range, and his face was there, so I squirted on his face, and I was mortified because he probably thought that I peed on him, but he didn’t stop, slowing gradually and letting me ride the wave of orgasm. By the time he pulled his fingers out, I was laying in a very large wet spot.</p><p>He said nothing, but stood, going into the bathroom and came out with a towel, wiping his face off. My legs, fuck, my whole body was still shaking, and it was hard to make words. I’d had good orgasms before, but never really like that. I had feelings for this guy, and it made it one-thousand times better.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” I managed to get out. “It’s not pee.”</p><p>“Rey, calm down. I’ve had sex before. Even with women. I knew what I was doing. I know what a urethral sponge is, and know what happens when you press on it in the right way.” He rubbed the towel against me to clean me up and I almost crawled off the bed. It was TOO MUCH. He snorted and laid down next to me while I tried to regulate my breathing. I only had one thought on my mind though. I was gonna ride that, and it was gonna happen once I got the sensory overload under control. “I’m a scientist. Nerds are better at sex.”<br/>I had at least stopped pulsing, and my legs seemed to be under control. I reached over and grabbed his dick, stroking him. He stopped talking, and I climbed on top of him, pinning his arms against the headboard again. “Condoms are in the nightstand?” He said, but I shook my head. This is why I was on birth control.</p><p>“I’m clean. Are you?”</p><p>“Yes, but also a fertile male.”</p><p>“Shut up, nerd,” I said with a giggle. “I have a thingy. We’re fine. I want to feel you explode.” Then I slid him into me. We didn’t need lube. I was already dripping again at the anticipation. He made a sound that I don’t really… a moan and a sigh at the same time? It was a cute sound, and I loved it, and I slowly lifted myself off of him, making sure that he felt all of me, and I felt all of him. His cock was amazing. I’d totally be fine with it for the rest of my life. I slowly sped up, shifting my hips and pinning his hands down, feeling his entire length and how it set my nerve endings on fire. I was gonna cum again, but I didn’t care. I picked up speed, this time I was moaning, and then he did something I didn’t expect, and I realized that he was MUCH stronger than he looked. He bounced his arms against the headboard, getting leverage, then pushed against my hands, breaking my grip. He then shifted, physically lifting me, and pushed me over, then flipped me onto my stomach, and rammed into me. I almost came right there, but I didn’t. My screams of pleasure were probably heard next door. He fucked me hard, and I couldn’t do anything about it, so I laid there, riding it out. He took my hands and put them behind me, then held them there, and thrust into me hard and fast. I think I lost control of my face, and his silence turned into moaning, and that into grunting. I knew I was screaming at this point. I didn’t try to stop myself. I’m pretty sure I screamed his name, which is like an achievement or something for penis creatures. He came inside of me, and as he did, I tightened, having my own orgasm. I had to wonder how often he had sex or masturbated, because there was so much semen. God, it was amazing. It was a burst of hot and sticky, and he kept going, slowing a little to set my nerves on fire again as I spasmed during my own orgasm. I blacked out after that. I distinctly remember drooling on the bed, then waking up with a towel on my crotch and a blanket and a boy wrapped around me. I ACHE. I ACHE SO MUCH BUT IT WAS SO WORTH IT. I never want to forget that. The first time I fucked someone that I truly wanted to keep around. I’m not gonna start planning a wedding or anything, but there is nothing like a raw pounding to make you realize how you feel about a person.</p><p>Not much was said after that. We laid there for a few hours, and I dozed off more than once. I didn’t know if he was asleep, but his grip on me didn’t loosen. It was like he was afraid I was gonna go somewhere. After those few hours though, He did say that he had to take me home. He had work to do, and I needed to pack. So I got dressed, and he brought me back. I’m still sore. I’m glad I’m still sore. I haven’t even showered yet. I sat down as soon as I locked the door so that I wouldn’t forget any of this. I’m gonna go shower now, and he said that he’d pick me up tonight, so that leaves me plenty of time to shower, nap, and I should probably eat something. He gave me some chocolate after the sex to try and bring me back to earth during my blackout, but it wasn’t real food. I need to go. Life goes on. Goodnight Journal. You’re a great listener.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. 2/27/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I went to the grow room tonight. I was impressed. First off, these motherfuckers are right behind my house. The house I thought they were cooking meth in? It’s the damn grow room. I never recognized Cardo or Albrekh coming out of it cause they wear industrial respirators, so of course I thought they were cooking meth when they walked outside in the respirators. I can see my house from the front porch. I am looking out the window right now and staring at the grow room. It’s maybe a thousand feet or so away.</p><p>ANYWAY, so you walk into what is probably an apartment, and find out real fast that it’s not. Seriously, the windows are blacked out, and this place is lined with wooden shelves bolted into the walls. There are several of them, all with lights running along them, and in each cubby hole, there was a tote, like you’d buy in Wal-mart. It was see-through. Albrekh showed me how it all worked. Cardo was a grower, but he was more on the chemistry side of things. In each tote was what looked like snow, but was actually the vitamins and minerals that the mushrooms needed to grow, called substrate. They grow psilocybe mexicana, which Albrekh apparently imports directly from Maria Sabina’s son’s farm in Mexico. That’s what makes theirs so desirable. Most shroom ops grow Psilocybin Cubensis, which you get in the South, but they get theirs straight from Mexico. Anyway, there were so many totes, and so many mushrooms. The amount of mushrooms in that grow room has a net worth of tens of thousands of dollars.</p><p>After they showed me the grow room, Cardo showed me the dark room, where they actually propagate the spores. I had to scrub in, for lack of a better term. Apparently microbial contaminants are a big deal. They had a shower with very specific soap, and I had to use that, then wear some of Cardo’s clothes since I didn’t really have any that were cleaned right. It was almost cute, wandering around in my boyfriend’s oversized punk trash clothes. Luckily there was a belt. Anyway, the dark room was really interesting. Apparently mushrooms grow in the dark, so to get the cultures started, they put the spores in substrate and put them in what was once a bedroom that has been completely blacked out. There is a light, but he only turns it on to check things, and we always turn it off on the way back out. Once the mycelliae are strong enough and the culture itself is close to capping, they put that culture in a tote in the grow room and let it sit for up to five weeks, where it grows exponentially. Then, they take a few caps and make spore prints, and the rest get harvested and taken over to the drying room, which is the other room in the apartment. This room has the window completely uncovered and there are several heat lamps in here. The mushrooms are brought in here and dried until they turn brown and shrivelled, and from there, they’re bagged, and Albrekh, since he’s the pretty and personable one, goes out to their dealers, who then sells said mushrooms. At the same time, they give Albrekh their cut from the last batch, and Albrekh runs that to a safety deposit box, which Kylo has the key to. Kylo then takes that money to ‘the vault’ whatever that is, and he’s responsible for keeping the books accurate. From there, that money is used to finance the Knights of Ren. That money is what is going to put me in my new home.</p><p>Albrekh wants to have me go and talk to the dealers, and I’ll go with him for the first few months so that they can get to know me, and that will free him up to go to Mexico to get more spores. Now that they have a new grower, Cardo was talking about setting up a new grow room and doubling the output. I was impressed, and apparently, we’re the major source of cash flow for the Knights. There’s another cell of five apparently that operates out in LA, and Cardo goes out there once or twice a month to help them cook LSD and other things. I’ll go with him at some point, but they aren’t as well established as the Knights in Vegas, so while they are getting set up, we are financing everything. Once things got set up over there, there was talk of Albrekh relocating so that they could have a permanent chemist to cook the drugs. Cardo doesn’t like that, and would rather keep making the trips, and there is some contention there, but ultimately it’s up to Ren.</p><p>Sidenote, there is a reason he stands on that corner. Apparently I had passed by him a lot, but we never had reason to talk. He recognized me is why all this started, and knew that he could ask for a light from me and it wouldn’t be weird. Anyway, the reason he stands on that corner is because he goes and smokes and takes a break while Albrekh makes his deliveries. Then Albrekh picks him up from there and they go do lunch. The reason Albrekh didn’t show up that one day is because I was there, and he didn’t know me, and they had protocol to drive right by if someone was talking to Cardo for safety.</p><p>Side note done, we broke for lunch, going and eating at the McDonald’s down the street. Cardo was a gentleman and bought mine, but made Albrekh pay for his own, much to his fake whining and jabs about me being a mobile pair of tits. Apparently they have a really good relationship. They’re basically brothers. After we ate, we went to the armory, which is on the other side of town. THERE WERE SO MANY GUNS. There was a gun for every occasion, and Albrekh showed me the basics of taking apart and cleaning a rifle and handgun, though it apparently varies based on the manufacturer and the type of gun, (You can’t clean an automatic like a revolver,) and Cardo spent most of it at his reloading bench. Reloading sucks, btw. It’s the most boring thing I can think of, but he just pops in his headphones and zones. I guess he works like that. I’m starting to understand the pot. Oh, and about that. We go a block away to smoke, because there is a lot of volatile stuff there, not to mention the explosives across the street, but vaping is fine in the armory. It stays in the armory though, and doesn’t go with us to the safe room.</p><p>We then all grabbed flak jackets and went across the street to the “safe room,” which is actually a misnomer. It’s the most dangerous building that the Knights of Ren operate out of. There are so many explosives. We put on the flak gear and helmets immediately once we got inside, and this was Cardo’s element. He went on for two hours about the equipment and how to build explosives. A lot of it I would need repeated, but I learned this cool trick with tabasco and a touchlight. We didn’t build a bomb, exactly. I familiarized myself with the equipment, but bomb building is Cardo’s job. Apparently it’s one of those things that has a steep learning curve, cause if you do one thing wrong, you lose your hands, even with the flak vests. Cardo is one of the few that hasn’t blown himself up working with this stuff, and he’s the designated bomb guy. Albrekh provides an extra pair of hands, and if it’s less explosive, we can work with that, (militarized chemists scare the shit out of me), but bombs are left to Cardo.</p><p>I just got home and showered. Cardo said that he had a surprise for me on leap year. I’m intrigued and hoping it’s a sexy surprise. We can only hope.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Epilogue: 2/29/20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>If you aren't down with beating Nazis, Fascists, and White Supremacists, don't read this chapter.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am neither Black nor Jewish, so I didn't feel like it would be acceptable for me to write down the slurs that would have very obviously have been said. Use your imaginations.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Get in loser, we’re going shopping.” Cardo said. Rey blinked. It was… what, 11 in the morning?</p><p>“It’s a bit early for you to be coming by, isn’t it?” She asked, not anywhere near dressed to go to The Strip today, which is what she assumed he meant. She was wearing one of the button-ups she pilfered from him and had it tied up in the middle, and daisy dukes. She wasn’t even wearing a shirt. If you tried, you could see her red bra. She had dedicated this day to packing, and most of the house was packed up, but boxes are heavy and they make you hot, and even if it is February, Vegas gets to about 70 degrees still in the winter.</p><p>“Yes, but I said I had a surprise for you. Come on, everyone is waiting. Also, you may want to wear something you’re willing to hike in the desert in.”</p><p>“Sweetie, you’re wearing black jeans and your vest.”</p><p>“Yes, but I took the sleeves off,” he said, waving his arms a little.</p><p>Rey sighed. “Fine. Let me shower,” she said and got into the box that had her clothes. That was the last one to tape up. She got out a cleaner pair of daisy dukes and a tank top, found some nice underwear because she remembered there was a surprise for her later, then disappeared into the bathroom. She showered quickly, debated shaving but then remembered that Cardo had a fetish there, so she just shaved her legs, because fetish or not, she had limits. They had grown a little, and she was certain that he’d be ecstatic. She then got dressed and went into the living room. Cardo was laying on the bed with his legs on the ground, playing on his phone with a cigarette sticking out of his mouth. How did he make candid look so damn good?</p><p>She walked over and sat next to him, playing with his hair. “Where are we going, dear boyfriend of mine?”</p><p>“To the desert, woman. I said that.” he sat up, putting the phone in his pocket.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I can’t tell you that, but you’ll see when we get there. It’s work related,” he said, and Rey got a little disappointed. Work was fine and all, but she wanted to stay in the grow room, not go trekking through the desert.</p><p>“Ugh. Fine,” she said and stood, grabbing her sunglasses and keys and whatever else she was gonna need. She went outside and was surprised when Cardo walked towards not his sporty black thing, but a giant black truck. That wasn’t his style at all. He climbed in, and Rey went to get in, glad that there was a step up, and sat. Albrekh was passed out in the back seat, and she snorted.</p><p>“Fuck you. I work nights,” he muttered, then sat up.</p><p>“Whose truck is this?” Rey asked.</p><p>“His,” Cardo said, pointing back at the very sleepy and very grumpy Albrekh.</p><p>“And he’s letting you drive?”</p><p>“Trust me, you want me to drive. He drives like a Texan.”</p><p>“I am a Texan,” Albrekh said crankily.</p><p>They drove for what felt like an hour out of Vegas and into the desert proper, and at one point, Cardo turned, going off road entirely. The truck made more sense now. They drove off road for a while until they got to an assortment of vehicles. There were a few trucks, and a dirtbike. Cardo turned off the truck, and they all got out, Albrekh putting on his Ray-Bans that he was so proud of. He was so damn white. He was so white it hurt, but Rey appreciated his basic ass. Cardo pulled on some sunglasses too, but his were sporty, which she hadn’t expected. They also pulled their Knights of Ren helmets out, Cardo’s the same as the mask but with more attached. It had the tentacles all over it. He was a big Lovecraft nerd. Cardo shoved his hands in his pocket and started walking. The sun was up, and it was the desert. It wasn’t hot, really, but it was dusty, and Rey would never stop being surprised by how much life there actually was out here. When people hear desert, they think of rolling dunes of sand, but that’s the Kalahari and the Sahara. The Mojave was filled with shrubs and had a few cactuses. It also wasn’t like they pictured on the other end, full of cactuses and missions. That was the Chihuahuan desert, and that was a bit further south.<br/>They walked for what felt like an hour, then Rey saw people in the distance, and a glint on a ridge pretty far away. She knew that was Kuruk. He was the sniper and often played overwatch. He probably had his rifle trained on them now. This was a serious op if they had Kuruk on overwatch. Rey started to get nervous. They got to the group. There was Kylo, Ren, of course, and Trudgen, who was the six foot five inches member of the Knights. Trudgen was holding a… person? He had his hands tied behind his back with a zip tie and had a bag over his head. Rey didn’t like where this was going. Her job was in the grow room. She didn’t want to be faced with this hard reality. They were all wearing their helmets, but Rey left hers at home. She hadn’t been given an official one. Cardo and Albrekh put theirs on, and Ren noded. They all formed a circle.</p><p>“I don’t…” Rey began, about to apologize for her lack of mask, but Cardo put his hand out, and she stopped talking. Trudgen grabbed the man by his zip tie and threw him forward into the dirt in the middle of them. The man flinched and laid there like he was dead.</p><p>“Remove your blindfold,” Ren said. The man didn’t respond. Kylo stepped forward and kicked the man in the stomach, and he groaned and coughed. Rey didn’t like this. This wasn’t what she signed up for, but was it? It was starting to get very real, and she wanted it to not be so real.</p><p>“I said remove your blindfold,” Ren said again, and the man struggled to sit up on his knees. His hands were zip tied in front of him, so he could use them, and he reached up, pulling the bag off.</p><p>Rey gasped. She wasn’t ready for that. Mr. Snoke was on his knees in front of her, and he looked at her, and he went from cold to angry in an instant. “He’s a Nazi, Rey. He’s one we’ve been watching for awhile,” Cardo said.</p><p>“I’m not a nazi, not that you terrorists would care,” Snoke said. “I know who you are, and I know what happens to me. You’re faggot loving scum, all of you.”</p><p>Albrekh, of all people, stepped forward and pivoted, roundhousing Snoke in the mouth. Snoke fell to the ground with a cry. Albrekh crouched down to his level. “Watch what you say. Some of us have feelings.” He then reached down and grabbed some of the sand, and when Snoke took a breath, he tossed it into his face, which caused a rash of coughing. This was cruelty, and Rey wasn’t okay with it. She went to leave, but Cardo grabbed her hand.</p><p>“I asked you if you had the stomach for it. You told me you did. This is what we do. We find and kill Nazis, fascists, and white supremacists. I was very clear and explicit in that. If you leave here, Kuruk is gonna put a round in your head. That’s his job. Don’t let that happen.”</p><p>“I didn’t sign up for this. I wasn’t supposed to be this close.”</p><p>This time Ren spoke. “We all get this close at least once. This is another rite for you. We take out a fascist that actually hurt you. You signed up for this, and you know too much. I don’t want to have to put you down too, Sephi. Is this too real for you?”</p><p>She turned, looking back down again. This was a gift?</p><p>“So, kill me already. I know what happens next. I know where I’m going. My God will have his vengeance on all of you. The blacks, the jews, the fags, the trannies. ALL OF YOU!” Snoke screamed.</p><p>Cardo pulled out a .45 and shot him in the thigh, and he screamed. Cardo then offered the gun to Rey. She didn’t want it. She wanted nothing to do with it.</p><p>“Take it, Rey. You have to do this.”</p><p>“No. I’m not going to kill anyone!” She yelled.</p><p>“And why not? What do you owe him? He spent the last two years making you miserable because he enjoyed having power over a woman. You dealt with it. The whole time, he’s been actively participating in white supremacy. We have receipts of him sending a few hundred dollars to Trump’s reelection campaign, we have records of him participating in conversations on 4chan and reddit, and I even have a photo of him in the mob at Charleston. He’s a white supremacist that has victimized Blacks, supports a president that is openly racist, openly a sex offender, probably a pedophile because Epstein didn’t kill himself, and is also a war profiteering monster. Snoke here has ties with the CEO of Raytheon, which is the company that produces Tomahawk cruise missiles, by the way, and while yes, he works at a Waffle House, he’s been put on trial for three rape cases, but was acquitted from all of them. Oh, and did you know that he was serving as a police officer in El Paso at the time? The only thing keeping you from taking this gun is the pressure that society has put on you to keep from killing. We don’t kill humans. We kill vermin, and there’s no law against that!” Cardo said angrily. Rey flinched away from him, and took the gun, just so he’d stop yelling. He took a breath, then sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I yelled, but this is where the rubber meets the road. Snoke isn’t a good man, and we can’t let him live. If you don’t do it, one of us will. This is the end for him. It doesn’t have to be the end for you.”</p><p>Rey started crying, because she knew he was right. She knew that he was the worst kind of person, but it’s not easy to kill a man. Especially when you have to look that man in the face, and he knows your name. She turned, pointing the gun, but her hands were shaking.</p><p>Snoke snorted. “Fucking coward. I knew that…” He started, but there was a deafening pop, and his lifeless body dropped to the ground. Rey put the gun on the ground in front of her and fell to her knees crying. She had done it, but it didn’t feel good. She wasn’t meant for this, and was questioning all the decisions she had made in the past month. Was this worth it? Cardo stepped forward and grabbed Snoke’s arms, and Trudgen grabbed the legs. They lifted his body and walked over to one of the open mine shafts that dotted this area and threw him in. The Cardo pulled out a little brick of what looked like plastic, put a blasting cap in it, and dropped it in too. Rey just watched her boyfriend throw her dead former boss into a mineshaft then drop an explosive in after him to cover the crime. Ren nodded and they dispersed. Rey didn’t really know what to do, so she followed Cardo, trying to get her tears under control. Cardo scooped up the gun and the spent shells and walked away, and after they were a safe distance, he pushed a button, and the mineshaft belched up dirt and sand, then collapsed, and some of the ground collapsed with it.</p><p>Her past went with it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you liked it, slam that Kudos button for me! It lets me know what I should do more or less of.</p><p>I hope you liked the rarepair I have going on. I wanted a break from all the fucking Reylo out there, and I feel like this one went pretty well. Thanks for reading. I love each and every one of you.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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